Arcee's Return To Iacon
February 23, 2016 Iacon General Hospital - Iacon There are many hospitals in Iacon, but none as prestigious and well equipped as Iacon General Hospital. The numerous state of the art facilities housed within the hospital offers around the clock emergency repairs, upgrades, and mundane upkeeps. Iacon General Hospital is staffed by many of the Autobots' brightest minds where the non-combatants can do their part in contributing to the war effort. Contents: The comatose form of Elita One ICU Pod 2 ICU Pod 1 Medic Obvious Exits: South leads to Science and Technology District. You send a radio message to Punch: Hello, Punch? I was wondering if you could stop by the hospital when you have a chance. Punch arrives from the Science and Technology District to the south. Punch has arrived. Arcee is on one of the treatment beds. Portions of her helm have been removed and are being worked on by techs at an adjacent table. She's conscious and recuperating from some extensive bodywork. The noise of an engine can be heard long before Punch arrives at the outer doors of Iacon General. Shifting from one mode to the other he spins and skips past various staff to get through to where Arcee is being treated. Punch says, "Are you okay? What happened?" The usual calm and cool gone from his persona. There's been one too many burdens he's carried lately. He'll compose himself after knowing what's important. Arcee smiles as Punch hurries over. "It's okay, everything's fine. Just...woke up in a crater with some damage, south of Tyger Pax. Don't really remember how I got there. Managed to get back to the Decagon, report in, and checked in over here to get things sorted out. My LF lenses, the special ones I use for targeting and such, those got completely ruined..." She gestures over toward the table where the techs are still working, and she shrugs. "Kind of crazy. Did you have a similar experience of waking up, missing memory files?" Punch looks around. Particularly looking at the techs theat are nearby. To put a little distance between himself and them he walks to the other side of the bed, grabs a chiar and sits down. His face falls, "I wasn't there." Each word was drawing knives across the core of his being. "I was sent on some intergalactic wild goose chase and... when I came back it was to chaos." "I tried to secure the Decagon and found..." Punch opens his chest compartment, just a crack, and the fraction of unmistakable blue light illuminates the Matrix residing within his chest cavity. Closing the plates together again Punch continues, "It was on Prime's desk. I kept it safe and said to the few others that it was a contingency. I haven't found a chance to hand it off quietly. I'd rather that it changed hands with everyone assuming I'm still protecting it. That way any trouble's aimed at me. Not it." His voice has barely raised above a whisper the whole time. Arcee gasps, and just about falls off her repair berth when Punch reveals that he's carrying around the Matrix. "WHAT. You are serious." She has no words, that's the best she can do for the occasion. "What the frag is going on here? This is...there must be a 'time zero'. A common chronometer setting. I think we need to find out when this happened and work from there." She sits up slightly. Part of her helm is disassembled, so she's not getting up just yet. Her LF lens apparatus is over on another table, where techs are currently working on it. "We'll figure this out." "Easy there. How often have you told me to let the medics work?" Punch says with a little more of his usual demeanour. "Once you're back in one piece then I'll give you as detailed a debrief as I've got." Punch sits up a little further so he's not slouched down. He raises one hand, palm down, fingers spread out. He's not used to being the one selling the virtues of staying in medical. Especially as his instinct to bunk of for a smoke isn't even present. It's uncomfortable. One of those mechanical grabber hands that you see in arcades, drops down to grasp Arcee's LF (look far) glasses. The red sheen of them intact, as the claw fails miserably at picking them up for three tries. On the fourth try, the claw hand picks it up properly, then skirts along the ceiling. It lowers, placing the visor in Arcee's hands. "Yeah, I know." Arcee grins a bit at Punch, placing her hand on his briefly. Makes for a nice moment, until she sees the claw hand jangling around her LF glasses. "HEY!" She pops back up again, catching the visor and clutching it protectively. Then, she opens her hands, peeking at the visor. Looks like the drone managed to fix them, which...she can't really complain about, under the circumstances. She then secures them carefully to her helm, bringing them down and getting a look through them. "I can't risk having these scratched up..." The claw hand snaps with annoyance, as it continues along the track on the ceiling. Nobody's ever seen where it goes. A trace of a smile returns to Punch's expression as Arcee's hand touches his. Then the drone buzzes around. Punch looks at the thing as it's running randomly then as it drops the visor. "They're tough. You'd also be surprised what even untrained field repairs can do for most equipment." Punch says calmly. "So... what else are you in for? I mean you need to get out of here before they serve whatever low grade static passes for a recharge round here. That's what'll really mess someone up." "Well, I apparently fell from some great height. That's what it felt like and appeared to be the case, anyway. The me-shaped crater was a dead giveaway," Arcee remarks, as she tests and then retests the lenses. "Hmph. I can't...tell...you know what, I think this might still be scratched. Wait, no. Nope, they buffed it out. But...here, I want you to have a look at something." She removes the glasses, and hands them over to Punch. "Can you see anything strange through here?" After taking the glasses Punch slights a cig from nowhere. With a practiced hand, or two as the case may be, He twists and twirls both slowly. Bring the performance much closer so Arcee can see Punch says quietly as he concentrates, "You remember about the trick behind the self lighting ones? I know you do. You can see the traces of powder on the end by looking through the lenses." Punch stops the glasses from moving and exaggerates the cig's movement so the particles of powder show up like little stars "By moving them around" Punch continues, "and keeping track of where on the visor's field of vision you've looked, you can see if there's any distortion in the image. So far... I've spotted nothing wrong." The two Autobots examine the visor further, Punch's 'totally-not tradecraft' skills coming in handy once more. The distortion on Arcee's visor, it seems, was an impression burned into it, much like how a monitor can have an image burned onto the screen. The distortion seems to be focused on the outside, and with Punch's work, he can make out a vague shape. After running the item through what scanners and projectors are available in the medbay, a holographic image emerges, the analysis of the item. It is of a figure, inhuman and spindly. Organic, and malformed, it is a sickening wretch with long fingers and three toes. THe figure is reaching out towards the visor...towards Arcee. http://img00.deviantart.net/dabf/i/2008/348/5/2/chrono_trigger__s___lavos_by_sooperkreep.jpg Arcee watches Punch investigate the visor more closely. "I'm always using that for targeting, and I've never really ruined it this bad. It's even more frustrating to not remember how it happened," she admits. When the visor is put through the scanner, Arcee STARES at the horrifying image burnt into the lens. "Oh. My. What...is /that/?" she asks in shock, leaning forward to study it. Imager says, "Gee Imager what have you been doing all day? Well gee, thanks for asking, I've been sitting up here atop the Decagon roof access, soaking up some solar energy so I can produce energon, because I am absolutely awesome like that." Arcee says, "I'm so glad to hear your complaining, you have no idea." Spindrift says, "Uh, ya really shouldn't keep yer radio on when you're talking to yourself though." Imager says, "....yeah I'm kinda glad to hear it too" Imager coughs. Imager says, "It was...uh...pretty rough. I mean I know some bots that go for a thousand years in silence, alone, but" Imager says, "Yeah" "Assuming it's genuine, it's whoever or whatever attacked you. Maybe the others." Punch sighs as he looks at the image, leaning in to the screen and running an analysis from his optical input and cross referencing it with his database on anyone he's got intelligence on. Something may match. You never know. "Do me a favor Arcee? Get a fresh visor fabricated. Just in case. I'd worry less knowing you weren't using that particular one again." Punch says whilst processing the possible results. "Yeah, I'll just have another one made from the original specs. Might take the drone techs a few cycles to complete it, but..." Arcee stares at the haunting image some more. "It's worth it not having /that/ permanently looking back. And this visor can hopefully be used as evidence to lead us to these perps." She shakes her head, and looks toward Punch. "One would think that if something that awful faced you down, that you'd be able to remember it, because that's an unforgettable face, right there." Looking back at Arcee and smiling warmly Punch says, "You'd be surprised. First time I seen my reflection, my other reflection, I didn't realise I was looking in a mirror. I still can't remember the exact image now. Only what happened after I regained my composure." Punch offers his hand for support. "I can keep an eye on grabby and clawy here. Try and make sure they don't goof off too much." Punch shrugs a little. His resources are limited when the infrastructure of the world's kinda missing. Arcee puts her requisition request into the computer for the tech drones to begin creating a replacement visor for her, then she snaps a few panels back onto her helm and reaches over for Punch's hand. "I'll bet it seemed like you were looking at a complete stranger," she opines, trying to get the nightmarish image of the 'visor creature' out of her head for now. Punch nods, then shrugs with his free hand, "It'd just have been nice if someone had said at the time. You know, you'll look a little different. More shoulder-pad-y? Maybe like you've lost a little face? Other joke?" Punch then chuckles softly. He then looks around. He grins. "You feeling up to catching a little air? I'll have you back before the nobody to object will even notice." Arcee laughs. "Okay. Not too far, though, still have a few stress fractures in the joints," Arcee says, slowly sliding off the berth to a standing position. "I'm just glad to be back and see a familiar face, and hear familiar voices on the commlink. This is really frightening in a lot of ways, but it helps to know we're not utterly alone, you know? And we have some clues to work with." Punch offers an arm in lieu of a hand in case Arcee needs any support whilst walking. Especially considering, as soon as he's outside the door, he's going to smoke. And offer. Even though the thought's crossed his mind that, technically, in his current condition he's breaking some kinda law or reg or something. Not that he cares about that "I'm just glad you're here and okay. In some ways, yes, a great way to put it but, like you say, we've got something to work with. You'll never be alone." Punch, still grinning, looks around carefully in case the drones suddenly start to develop uncharacteristic intellect. Arcee seems to be walking okay, if a bit slow. The casings around her knee joints do seem to be slightly fractured and might take some more mending. But with drones being the only available medics in the polity itself, beggars can't be choosers. Arcee accepts a smoke, and follows along with Punch in whatever direction he's headed. "Have you been to Autobot City since all of this happened? Or just here in Iacon? It seems as though all of Cybertron was affected in a huge way, but I want to see how things are on Earth. Hopefully, Metroplex is still there..." Punch thinks for a moment, "At least one of the the incoming calls I recieved was from Autobot City. Metroplex, to my knowledge, isn't compromised which is a relief." He slights a cig and lets it light itself. After taking a deep draw and venting out Punch says, "I don't know about the other side of the fence. I've not transformed since..." Punch taps his chest, "Just in case. I'm not sure if I could or what would happen." Keeping pace with Arcee Punch notices the minute reduction in pace. "If you want to stop it's fine. I just didn't want to be on camera smoking in a hospital. More than a little disrespectful." "Oh, I understand, especially considering your current cargo." Arcee shakes her head; even as fearless as she is, she doesn't think she could hide and protect such a thing for very long. She takes a puff off her enercig. "Oh, I understand," she laughs. "Sure, we can have a seat, I think there's some benches near the front, they shouldn't care so long as we're not inside around the patients." She ponders for a moment. "If Metroplex is online and accounted for, perhaps Trypticon is still out there as well. Something to consider." Finding a free bench, not that it's tricky at the moment, Punch sits. "True. As soon as I've completed the hand off I'll be able to make an appearance here and there." Punch looks down at his chest compartment. He's surprised really. Something so powerful, iconic and legendary. He's felt nothing from it at all. He must lack the touch. Drawing again deeply Punch says, "If it isn't one thing it's another. Eventually there'll be a moment for a brief break. At least I'd like to think there is. Just enough to re-center." He then vents out. "Sorry, long hours, are getting to me a bit." Punch decides now's a bad time to mention he's not recharged since he too on his current passenger. "If it makes you feel safer to remain off the field right now, then I think you have a good reason to stay put in the Decagon or just within Iacon if you want," Arcee notes. "I suppose Magnus is officially 'in charge', he ranks all of us and frankly, I'm relieved he showed back up. You're probably going to want to talk to him at some point. I think he'll be very interested in your unique situation." She pats Punch on the arm. "I get it, we're all a little stressed right now." When patted on the arm Punch did feel his strength boosted a little "It's strange but I'm less stressed than I've been before." Punch admits, "Tired, certainly, but not stressed. No doubt when I can't use the excuse of precaution and have to go back and forth as I always have it'll become so again but, now, at least whatever I'm doing is me. Not him." Punch thinks about that before blowing a series of smokey shapes in the air. His fatigue leaves them scattered and unfocused. "I'll still be glad to pass this off to Magnus. I'm not really the type to matter enough to be dealing with the big things." "Just because you're not ranking doesn't mean you don't matter," Arcee insists. "You matter to me. So what's going to happen is Mags will probably find a very secret and secure location for that until the rightful owner returns." She takes another puff off the enercig. To her, it's WHEN Rod returns. Not 'if'. It's WHEN. She refuses to consider the alternative. "You know what I'm thinking this might have been...is a mass abduction. The sheer number of missing, though, we're dealing with something very extraordinary." Punch prioritises the easier part first. "It's something that hasn't happened before but consistent with possibility. Cybertronians share many key characteristics that, depending upon the nature of the threat, could affect a large section of the population simultaneously." He looks at Arcee and smiles, "The good thing is that, regardless of the trick pulled to exploit that common bond, whatever has been done can, and will, be undone." Okay then the filler bit that he can deal with but prevents him from sitting silently like he's crashed. "It'll be safe. I just feel it is on a different path than I am. so, sooner I get it back on track, the better." Now the tricky to process one. Punch has avoided leting the nature of his work get on top of him by convincing himself that he doesn't matter. To some degree, he feels, it allows him to take the risks he needs to in his work. He could be wrong but, so far, he's never put that to the test. "... Thank you. It's hard to say what that means. Even if i goes against the grain of how I feel about myself. You matter to me too." Arcee nods, and listens quietly as she finishes her enercig. Punch's last comments gets a genuine, warm smile out of her. "It's going to be okay," she promises. "No matter what. We'll carry on. It's what we've always done." She slowly moves to stand. "Well, I'm headed back to get a little rest and recharge. Hoping that these joint casings do a little mending on their own. Thanks for stopping by, I appreciate it." Punch nods, "Arcee? No one's kept record of how many of those drones are in there. Just saying if they get too annoying and one of them happens to explode... no harm done. Also, anytime you need me just call." Punch finishes his cig and stands. He's smiling. Not his biggest, or most convincing, It's a rarer one. Hard to put into words really. So Punch doesn't and says "You're right. It will be alright. Rest well." As the place is so deserted Punch takes to the skies to go home. Wherever that is. Arcee gets a good chuckle out of Punch's last joke. "Take care, I'll see you later," she calls as he departs -- into the sky, lucky him. Sometimes she wishes she could do that. Category:2037 Category:Logs Category:Autobot Category:I Slept Through The Apocalypse